In Our Natures
by harperbane
Summary: The storm has passed. In fact, multiple storms have passed. But life has just a couple more curve balls to chuck at Cloud Strife.
1. Chapter 1

He was leaving again. He'd stayed five nights this time, which, according to Mariel's statistics for the past two months, was one night more than an average Strife-stay at Seventh Heaven. Nevertheless, he was leaving.

Mariel had been brought onto the team during the previous year as a cook when Tifa Lockhart decided to build the inn onto the original Seventh Heaven Bar. It was the best of the five odd jobs she'd done since coming to the city from her family's ranch in the country. It had been just over six years that she'd been living away from her family, and Mariel felt that she had shed most of the shadows that she'd been running from. Perhaps that was why she worked so hard for Tifa, fought so hard for the happiness of the other residents of Seventh Heaven. It was the first place that she'd actually been able to call home in six long years.

Even after a year and a half of working with Tifa and her lot, Mariel knew that Cloud's departure would make room for yet another bout of depression. She told herself that it was for the sake of the children and Tifa, even Yuffie and Cid, and the other frequents of the bar, and their happiness, that Mr. Strife's common absences made her so furious.

Tifa had seen him refueling Fenrir that morning. He'd be gone by the time they all woke up the next morning, and everyone knew it. Mariel could see it in their hopeful little faces. The post-Cloud-departure breakfast scene was getting a little too familiar for her liking.

Denzel let a spoonful of oatmeal plop back into his bowl. Little droplets of milk dripped from the outer lip of the ceramic dish.

"Denzel, elbows off the table," Tifa chided from her seat, but her voice was thin and quiet. Denzel didn't lift his head from where it was perched atop his fist or remove either of his elbows from the tabletop. Marlene sat with her hands folded in her lap, her back flat against the back of the chair, oatmeal untouched.

Mariel stirred another batch of chopped vegetables into the broth on the gas stove.

"Will everybody be here for lunch?" she asked as brightly as she could, although she already knew the answer.

"Yes," Tifa responded a moment later. "I think we'll all be staying in today."

"I'll double this recipe then," Mariel concluded and dipped into a crate for another stalk of spinach.


	2. Chapter 2

Mariel didn't know if Tifa had called them, or if they could just sense a disturbance in the force, but the whole AVALANCH gang had assembled in Seventh Heaven by lunch time. Mariel flitted about, refilling bowls of soup and handing out drinks. Cid and Barret were managing to hold a conversation, and now and then Yuffie would growl at some imaginary filth on one of the blades she was rubbing at with a napkin. Everyone else remained quiet. At the soft swish of the kitchen door, all eyes looked up. The kitchen was behind the bar, and had two doors. One led into the front of Seventh Heaven, the bar and restaurant area. The other led outside to a small shed, where a familiar monstrous black motorbike was kept. Dread filled Mariel's stomach with each low thump of Shinra-issued combat boots on the tiled floor. She didn't know how he managed to look so surprised when he found them all staring at him. A chorus of gruff greetings met him. Bright, tortured blue-green eyes met Mariel's for a second, as if he knew she'd been the only one not to call out to him. But only for a second – Cloud Strife averted his gaze almost immediately, and Mariel continued picking up the empty soup bowls in front of Vincent and Yuffie.

She listened to the inevitable scuffling of shoes and clearing of throats that ensued as everyone fought to find something to say.

"Please don't go away again, Cloud."

Marlene's little voice broke the silence. Even Mariel straightened to watch Strife's reaction. He stood like a deer in headlights for a moment before frowning at the ground. Mariel stifled the snort and slipped by him into the kitchen.

"I'll be back," she heard Cloud grunt. His slow footsteps followed her to the kitchen before stopping. Mariel didn't turn around. She tried her hardest not to acknowledge him standing in the doorway watching her. Oh, no. If he wanted her attention, then he'd have to act like a polite, normal human being and bloody _ask_ for it. Five; seven; ten seconds passed before she heard him clear his throat. The heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. Mariel whirled around, taking several steps so that they were suddenly standing very near to each other. She met his confused stare as boldly as she could, brandishing the metal ladle she'd been using for the soup. As if she'd let him waltz in and take food without permission…

"Do you need something Mr. Strife?" she asked shortly. Cloud narrowed his eyes. She heard the stretch and creak of his leather gloves as he clenched his fists.

"Got anything handy, Mari?" he grumbled.

"Handy?" she repeated. She pursed her lips and turned to rummage through a drawer in the fridge. She fingered a few apples for squishy spots. It just wasn't in her nature to be confrontational, she guessed. "Good?" she asked quietly as she offered him two apples for inspection.

"Fine," Cloud breathed impatiently and took hold of both fruits with one hand. He promptly stuck one of them in his mouth. She heard his teeth pierce the red skin, and the rustle of his clothing as he looked himself over for a place to stash the second apple.

"Here," Mariel said, holding out a brown paper bag. She always had them nearby for Denzel and Marlene. She watched him avoid her gaze as usual and take it from her hand. He paused only momentarily at the bit of cheese and bread already in the bag, before depositing both apples in it and uttering a gruff "thanks."

As his footsteps faded away and a collective sigh arose from the group out front, Mariel wondered why she couldn't bring herself to just sock that asshole in the jaw for all their sakes. Really, it's what he deserved for constantly deserting his family. Violence, she supposed again, was also just not in her nature.


	3. Chapter 3

"I thought we'd gotten over this," Tifa murmured from her side of the room. The dull golden glow from the street lamp beyond the curtained window was befitting of the situation and of Tifa's dull tone. "After the Remnants were defeated, I thought that this would all end."

Mariel shifted in the twin bed at the opposite side of the room. She preferred when she had her own room, but with so many of their friends staying the night and regular customers, Tifa couldn't afford to spare any space.

"He was doing so well, Mari," Tifa continued. "I don't know what changed."

"He is a delivery boy," Mariel offered hesitantly. "He's bound to be traveling a lot. Especially with the range he advertises. We all know that was to help pay for the renovations."

"I know it was." Tifa let out a sigh. "I know he thinks of us. I know he can't live without us."

Mariel stared up at the white ceiling and the wooden blades of the fan.

"It'd just be nice if he learned how to show it a little more," she offered quietly. After a moment, Tifa made a sound of agreement. Outside, a car alarm was going off. A man shouted and the screeching noise ceased. A cat yowled in one of the nearby alleyways.

"I just thought we'd gotten over this!" Tifa ground out again. She growled a little, and Mariel heard her rolling over in bed. "Something must have happened. He must be upset," she claimed. "It's been years since the last Sephiroth incident. Something must have happened since then to upset him."

"Hm," Mariel murmured. The only significant change she could think of was her own arrival at Seventh Heaven, but she was not so vain as to think that she was the reason behind Cloud Strife's imperturbable angst.


	4. Chapter 4

The front portion of the Seventh Heaven Bar and Inn was, of course, the original bar, with tables and chairs and the drink counter running along the back. Tifa had reorganized it so that booths lined the edges of the room and had made more space for the tables in the interest of attracting more than just drunks. That was where Mariel came in. Every day, she cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner for a modest crowd that stayed in rooms in Tifa's inn. Every weekend, she'd go to one of the many markets that had sprung up around the city, usually with the children, to restock the pantry. Barret or Cid usually came in with the crates of vegetables or meats and whatnot. Tifa let her cook what she wanted, and advertised accordingly, and so that Mariel was never too over-worked. Saturday and Sunday were her days off, when she was only required to cook for the permanent residents of Seventh Heaven.

Mariel enjoyed cooking. She liked to experiment with flavors and textures. It wasn't something she pictured herself doing her whole life, but presently, the job made her happy. The night that Cloud Strife re-entered their lives, she'd cooked up the steaks that Barret had brought in that afternoon. It had been a Sunday, so they'd had the bar to themselves. The tables had been set with nice table clothes and silverware, and Tifa had brought out a bottle or two of wine to pass around. Mariel had been in the kitchen when she heard a hush fall over the group in the front. Snatching up the extra napkins for the kids and the old men (as she jokingly liked to call Cid and Barret, who had a tendency to gossip and chatter nostalgically), she'd danced out to find a drenched Cloud Strife standing in the doorway. She watched quietly as Tifa leapt up and into his arms, followed promptly by Denzel and Marlene, who each grabbed one of his legs. The old men grinned and hollered their welcomes and Yuffie circled the poor man, looking for a free body part to grab hold of. With a shriek, she latched herself onto his back, and the whole group of them tumbled to the floor, much to the amusement of the watching party.

"Don't hurt the man," Barret bellowed. "You alright, Spikey?"

"It's no wonder he don't stay long," Cid joked, but received a swift kick to the ribs from Mariel who bore an extra plate and silverware.

"Where would you like to sit, Cloud?" she called out. Amid giggles and murmurs, she heard Cloud yell a brief "anywhere." With a pang of longing, Mariel wished that she had been one of the huggers on the floor. It felt like forever since she'd begun work at Seventh Heaven, when in reality it had been but a year and a few months. She wondered how long it would be until she truly felt like part of the family.

She set a place for Cloud at the table at which Tifa and the children had been sitting with Barret, and took her place in between Cid and Vincent. The latter gazed at her for a moment before going back to his wine. Yuffie slid back into her seat across the table, and Cid leaned backwards in his chair to whisper something to Barret. Their laughter boomed like thunder and, despite herself, Mariel smiled. Perhaps it wouldn't be too long a wait.


	5. Chapter 5

"You want a drink, Cloud?" Tifa called out. She was smiling.

"Sure."

It was Tuesday, and the bar should have been filled with people, but the first of winter's snow had arrived and hardly anybody was outside. The children were delighted. For weeks, they'd had nothing but sludge and rain. Though it was too cold and late for them to play outside today, Mariel knew that they'd probably be out by the time she woke in the morning. She was sitting with Vincent on one of the bar stools facing the room and its occupants, absently spinning back and forth. A large mug of tea was placed carefully between her legs on the large round seat. She gripped it with both hands to keep it steady as she swung lazily around.

Cloud was seated at one of the booths, his arms spread wide over the rounded back of the seat, back to the windows and the white beyond. On either side of him sat Denzel and Marlene who were hard at work. Mariel had given them the task herself: create your very own recipe for hot chocolate. Winner gets to make the drink for everyone to try. Each child gripped a pencil. Denzel was hunched over his scrap of paper, scribbling furiously, while Marlene leaned far back in her chair, peering at her paper from a distance, tongue poking through her lips, hand moving slowly down the page.

"Ya'll about done?" Mariel inquired.

"_NO_!" both kids screeched when she made to hop down from the bar stool. A collective chuckle rumbled around the room. Mariel settled back against the bar counter. Tifa re-emerged from the kitchen and slipped behind the counter.

"Mari, we're a little low on flour and veggies. We may need to make a food run."

"Hmm," Mariel nodded in acknowledgement. "We're good on meat?"

"Yeah, Barret's last delivery has us all stocked up in the freezer."

"And we're okay with sugar and cocoa powder and such? The kiddies are hard at work over there – I don't want to have to tell them we can't make their dream cocoa because we don't have milk."

"I just checked. We've got brown and white sugar, dark and light cocoa powder that that family left with us last Monday, and plenty of milk."

"Fabulous," Mariel smiled. Tifa's mention of brown sugar had sparked her imagination. What about a hot chocolate made with dark chocolate and brown sugar?

"I haven't forgotten you, Cloud," Tifa called out across the room. Mari heard the _pop_ as she removed the cap from a bottle.

"Mari, c'mere!" Marlene waved her hands in Mari's direction. "C'mere!"

"What do you need, lovely?" Mariel asked, but slid from the bar stool anyways. Her inquiry was met with yet another "c'mere!" from the little girl.

"Mari, can you bring this to Cloud for me?" Tifa said from behind the counter. She slid a cold bottle across the top and Mari grabbed it by the neck.

Cloud Strife brought such unhappiness when he left, but brightened the household immeasurably when he returned. Mariel couldn't quite explain it. Just the way Tifa walked had changed. Mariel slid the beer bottle across the table to Cloud, who caught it and uttered a barely audible "thanks", and leaned down by Marlene.

"What's up?"

Marlene grabbed hold of her shoulder and pulled her down farther, leaning up to put her lips right next to Mari's ear. Mari tried to resist the urge to wriggle as Marlene's breath tickled her ear and neck. She failed, and ducked away, laughing and smiling apologetically.

"You're tickling me!" she cried out, rubbing her neck, and Marlene giggled.

"Sorry," she said through her chortles. From the corner of her eye, Mari noticed that, though his head was turned to the side, a certain pair of Mako-blue eyes was focused in her direction.

"Tell me again," she said to Marlene, attempting to ignore the look from across the table.

"It's a secret," Marlene declared, and glanced suspiciously in Denzel's direction. Denzel himself was still hunched as far over his paper as the table would allow. Mariel could tell that he'd moved onto drawing something or other.

"I don't think he's really paying any attention," Mariel mused, more to herself than to Marlene, "but just to make sure, whisper again. Just not so close."

Mariel tilted her head to the side to give Marlene better access. Marlene leaned in close. Mari shivered and battled her reflexes furiously. Marlene took a deep, full breath, and let it out.

"How do you spell _marshmallow_?"

"Ah," Mariel said wisely. She knelt down and turned to face Marlene, so as to hide her face from Denzel. Slowly, providing repetitions if necessary, Mariel mouthed out each letter, watching as Marlene wrote them out on her paper. "Bravo sweetheart," she said when Marlene was satisfied with the size of the 'w'. She stood, but held the tips of three fingers to her lips. When she looked, Cloud was watching her. In the two second interval before he looked away, she whispered to him:

"Do we have marshmallows?"

His eyes widened for a moment, before he shook his head slowly. He glanced down at Marlene and then back up to Mariel. Mari nodded in understanding, tapping one finger against her bottom lip.

"It's just sugar and water, yes?"

Cloud's eyes widened. He shook his head again. Mariel looked, wide-eyed, back at him. _Holy shit_, she mouthed, and the corners of Cloud's lips _may _have curved upwards just a little. Mariel fled the scene.

"Tifa! How can I make marshmallows?" she gasped, as she rounded the corner of the bar counter.

"Marshmallows? Oh, I don't know, why?"

"Marlene wants them for her cocoa. Yuffie? Vincent? Do either of you know how to make marshmallows?"

She was forced to cut Yuffie short on her apology for not knowing how to make her all-time favorite food, and chose not to acknowledge the look Vincent Valentine gave her.

She had no luck with Cid or Barret either. With a sigh, Mariel dashed back into the kitchen, intent on finding a way to make marshmallows.


	6. Chapter 6

Her attempts were futile. She whipped various concoctions together for unreasonable amounts of time and was presented with nothing but syrupy mixes and the occasional goop. Perhaps it was her disappointment that distracted her from the second body in the room, or perhaps it was that Tifa had mopped the day before, and everyone was gleefully sliding around in big, wintry, wooly, sound-muffling socks. Whatever the reason, when a second hand took hold of the beaters and another pulled the plug from the wall socket, Mariel jumped in shock, knocking her head against the jaw of whoever was standing behind her.

"Cloud, I'm so sorry!" she cried, reaching up to touch his assaulted chin.

"It's fine," Cloud said briskly, and stepped back. "I know how to make marshmallows."

"You're kidding me, right? Where the hell did you learn?"

Cloud glared. He wasn't kidding. Mariel stopped asking questions.

"When you're good friends with Zack Fair, you learn lots of things," he muttered as he stalked over to the pantry. "Where do you keep small things?"

"Small things?"

"Like spices and powders and stuff," Cloud clarified, pushing jars and packets aside on various shelves.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Mariel asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew he wasn't this brusque with everyone. She knew he wasn't. She'd seen him with the kids, and with Tifa. Hell – he wasn't this short with Yuffie. Cloud sighed and stepped out of the pantry, closing the door.

"You need gelatin to make marshmallows. If you don't have it, we shouldn't even try."

"Ah," said Mariel. "Now there's the problem."

Cloud hummed his agreement and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Mariel shook her head.

"There really isn't a substitute for gelatin. We could try to whip something up, but I doubt it would _'mallow'_ if you know what I mean," she concluded. "It'd probably just be '_marsh'_."

She laughed a little at the bad joke, and, before he turned to her with an eyebrow critically raised, she swore she saw Cloud's lips crook upwards.


	7. Chapter 7

Thankfully, the day did not end in tears. Marlene was a little heartbroken to find that marshmallows were not a possibility, but she perked up when a unanimous vote elected her cocoa as the most appetizing. They all promised to sit in for extra-sugar, milk-instead-of-water, cinnamon, dark chocolate hot chocolate with a vanilla (or white chocolate if you have it, Mari) swirl the next morning.

When the children pounded down the stairs at 7:30 the next morning, suited and geared up for a blizzard, they didn't notice the lights from the kitchen, or the interesting smell wafting from beneath the door. Neither did Tifa as she sleepily made her way after them to make sure no one got hurt. By the time everyone else had woken up and the children had gotten too cold to play any longer, Mariel had finished her work.

"Everyone, please take a seat. You will be served shortly," she announced professionally. Ignoring whatever it was that Cid hollered out at her, she disappeared back into the kitchen. Nine mugs were brought forth, filled to the brim with warm chocolate goodness, a lazy swirl of cream and something else decorating the top. Marlene took hold of her cup and let out a squeal of happiness.

"Marshy-mallows!" she declared, grinning gleefully at the little white bits bobbing up and down in her cocoa.

Mariel stifled a yawn and leant back against the wall, enjoying the smiles and chatter.

"You managed," Cloud said next to her. He sounded a little surprised.

"Guess what I found in the back of the pantry in the wee hours of the morning," Mariel chuckled, and this time could not hide the yawn that took over her face for a moment. Cloud waited a moment before speaking.

"You stayed up all night," he stated, rather than inquired, "to make marshmallows?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it?" Mariel answered, but felt a little frustrated by the incredulous tone he'd adopted. "Why are you so surprised?" she asked. It wasn't like she'd never done anything for the kids before.

Cloud's brow furrowed as he looked at her, and something twisted his lips in an odd way, as though he were going to be sick, or cry. So strange was his expression and so unexpected, that Mariel took a step backwards. Cloud swallowed heavily and pushed off from the wall, taking a seat next to Barret and Tifa. Mariel watched him for a moment, stunned, before making a dash for the stairs.

What on earth had she done to make him so angry?


	8. Chapter 8

The advantage of the snow was that Mariel got her room back. She remained there for the better part of the day, reading, thinking or occasionally pacing back and forth in frustration. Cloud had never made his dislike for her so obvious, and now that he had, Mariel couldn't stop remembered and re-analyzing all the critical looks and one-word answers he'd given her over the past year and a half. Tifa had said that some recent change must have upset Cloud. Maybe he was just grumpy. Maybe she had something on her face. She'd run to the bathroom to check after thinking this. Maybe he'd simply been trying to relate to how tired she was after staying up all night making marshmallows. Maybe, when he wanted to be, he was just way more expressive than anyone ever gave him credit for!

Mariel dashed this idea almost immediately. She doubted Cloud Strife had ever given his mother such a vividly expressive representation of his feelings.

She dropped onto her bed and glared up at the ceiling. She was probably over-analyzing all of this. She had a habit of over-analyzing things that worried her, or caused her stress.

But she'd be _damned_, if he hadn't given her such a look!

"Damn you Strife," she ground out through her teeth. She took a deep breath. She needed to step back and away from the situation for a while. She needed to cool down a little. Tifa had said that they were running low on flour and vegetables. A little grocery run would do Mariel some good. She slid her boots on and grabbed a jacket and scarf on her way out the door, pausing to stuff a rather large wad of money into her pocket. She decided that she might stop and pick up a little something for herself while she was out; a pastry or a hot drink or something.

She could hear the amiable chatter from the bar, wished to avoid any confrontation, and so snuck as quietly as possible down the hallway towards the stairwell. Her wish went unheard. When she was just ten feet from the stairwell, a head of spikey blonde hair rounded the corner and stood in her way.

"Cloud," she exhaled heavily, shifting her gaze to the carpet beneath his feet. She willed her anger and frustration to melt into that same carpet, to be calm for just three seconds and let her escape.

"Mari," Cloud acknowledged, but he didn't move as she hoped and expected him to. His silence and stillness confused her so much that she found herself meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, and Mariel swore she nearly choked. "I was rude," he finished quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah," Mariel murmured, still aware of the many people just down the stairs and around the corner. "Kind of."

"I'm sorry," Cloud said again, but nothing more. Mariel shrugged.

"Is there something that I've done to you, Cloud that I'm not aware of?"

Cloud moved his jaw back and forth a few times, but was otherwise motionless.

"Have I insulted you, or served you raw meat by accident, or something? If I have, let me say right now that I'm very sorry, and I hope you can forgive me."

"You haven't insulted me," Cloud sighed, and looked away. Mariel was getting fed up with his lack of response.

"Then what's the problem?" she barked. About twenty seconds later, she would wish more than anything in the world that she'd never asked that question. Cloud rounded on her, taking a step forward.

"The problem, Mari? You're the problem," he said venomously. "I've met men who remind me of him. I've met women who remind me of her. I've met people who remind me of both Aerith and Zack put together. But none of them do what you do to me. _That's_ my problem."

"Cloud," Mariel began slowly, hesitantly, delicately. "I thought you were over this –"

"I _am_ over their deaths," he continued, bracing a hand and forearm against the wall. "But if that wasn't enough, here you are taking care of the kids and running Seventh. And you look at me with those…" he trailed off, gesturing broadly in her direction, seemingly exhausted.

"I'm trying to help," Mariel managed to squeak out.

"Help – I _can't_ just let you in! What do you know about what we've been through?" Cloud exclaimed loudly, but quickly quieted himself. "What am I supposed to do with Tifa? How am I supposed to…? How can I…?" he shook his head. "How can I tell the kids that I don't love Tifa like that? How do you expect me to tell them that as their 'father', I don't love their 'mother'?"

"I don't expect you to do anything," Mariel said slowly. She was holding tears in just barely, and her throat felt raw. "I've never asked you for anything, or tried to mess with any relationships between any of you."

Cloud had both hands now pressed against opposite walls. He definitely looked exhausted, which would explain his half-comprehensible argument.

"I'm sorry if you were under the impression that I've been trying to undermine the bonds of your family."

She wondered how long she could hold it all in. Would she last until he let her by? Down the stairs? Out the door, even? How long could she keep it together?

"I assure you this was not my intention. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She ducked under his left arm and fled down the stairs.

"Mari?"

She was through the kitchen, nearly, nearly to the door, and –

The cold winter air hit her like a train, but she soldiered on, shutting the door behind her, and setting off into the flurry. Maybe she didn't belong in Seventh Heaven after all. A few tears dripped down her reddening cheeks as she trudged onwards. It had never occurred to her just how attached she'd grown to the place and the people. Nor had it occurred to her that her desire to keep Cloud Strife from abandoning his family was partially because she believed herself to be a part of that same family.

The wind cut into her clothing and sank into her flesh. By the time she'd reached the train station, the cold had settled deep in her bones, and wracked her back and forth with violent shivers.

Perhaps it was time she returned to her own family.


	9. Chapter 9

November was frigid. The Seventh Heaven Bar and Inn was either filled to bursting point with weary travelers, or completely empty except for its permanent inhabitants. It changed week to week.

The replacement cook had arrived three days after the old one had stormed out through the kitchen back door into what grew to be the most vicious snow storm anyone had seen. She was an elderly woman, with stern lines carved into her broad face and hard, calloused hands.

"I am Anuska Ibatini."

"Ibatini?" Tifa had inquired, as politely as was possible.

"Ibatini. You may call me Anuska," the woman had announced. The children clustered around Tifa watched in wonder for any sign of a change in facial expression; the twitch of a lip, a hollowing cheek. The new cook's face remained as impassive and as hard as rock.

"Who told you about the job offering?" Cloud came to stand behind Tifa, muscled arms crossed over his chest and suitably displayed by the short sleeve t-shirt he wore. Ms. Anuska Ibatini straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

"T'was recommended to me by a family friend."

"_Which _family friend?" Cloud persisted, the corner of his mouth twitching downwards. Anuska titled her head forward, peering at Cloud's face. Then, to the children's amazement, a dry, humorless smile stretched her old face.

"You must be Mr. Strife," she said, and paused before continuing. "_Cloud_, if my memory serves me. What a… _beautiful_ name."

Cloud's crooked lip dissolved into a full-blown scowl.

"Who were you recommended by?" he demanded, bristling. The smirking smile fell from Anuska's lips like shed skin, and once again, she straightened herself, towering over Cloud's 5 foot 7.

"Your former cook, Ms. Vice, recommended me, Mr. Strife, Ms. Lockhart. Her father is a comrade of mine."

"Comrade?" Denzel muttered, but was shushed immediately by Tifa, who herded the little ones away from the door.

"Mari sent you?" Marlene called back, brightening at the name.

"Mariel Vice, yes."

"Mari!" Marlene repeated to Denzel excitedly.

"But if you're replacing her," Denzel trailed off. Anuska's face soured mildly, and Denzel shrunk against Cloud. "She's not coming back?"

"It would seem not," Anuska barked out slowly. Her habit of clipping all her words short would have been funny to Denzel, had she not been so physically imposing. Tifa stepped in, holding her hands out in a pacifying manner.

"Well, if Mariel sent you, then I suppose we can't refuse," Tifa smiled as widely as she could. Anuska inspected her for a moment before taking a step farther into the entryway.

"No, I suppose not."

"Here," Tifa offered, leading the tall woman towards the kitchen. "Let me show you around. Cloud, why don't you grab her bags…bag and take it to Mari's old room?"

Cloud barely got ahold of the dark grey suitcase that was thrust into his chest before Anuska Ibatini had turned and begun her slow, stiff procession after Tifa.

"Is this supposed to be funny?" Denzel grumbled. He and Marlene followed behind Cloud who'd begun to trudge up the stairs to the rooms.

"I don't know, Den," Cloud breathed. "It's for the best, I guess."

"But I don't like her!" Marlene cried out, grabbing Cloud's free hand and winding herself around his arm.

"Look, I don't particularly like her either, but we need a cook –"

"I want Mari!" Marlene whined from his arm. Cloud sighed and looked down at her.

"I know, but –"

"We miss her," Denzel explained solemnly.

"I do too kids, but –"

"No you don't!" Marlene cried out and Cloud stiffened. Denzel dug his elbow into Marlene's ribs.

"I miss her," Cloud stated, as calmly as he could.

"You didn't even like her," Denzel grumbled. This time, Marlene – still clutching Cloud's arm – kicked out at him, catching his thigh with the toe of her little sneaker. Cloud paused a moment, before lifting both Marlene and the suitcase over the threshold of the spare room. He leaned the suitcase against the desk and deposited Marlene on the bed. He jerked his head at Denzel, who obediently, if not hesitantly, joined her.

"What have you two heard?" Cloud asked sternly, arms crossed. Marlene clutched her hands in her lap and tried to smile. Denzel swung his legs, glowering at the wooden paneling of the floor. Marlene sent a wistful look at Denzel.

"We have to tell," she murmured. Denzel sighed and rolled his eyes.

"We didn't mean to hear it," he said as a disclaimer. Cloud raised an eyebrow.

"Hear what?"

"It was Yuffie," Denzel continued matter-of-factly. "She's really loud."

"What did you hear?" Cloud ground out quietly.

"Yuffie said that Mari left because _you_ were mean to her!" Marlene, who'd been gazing up at him with big eyes and pouted lips, bounced with the force of her confession.

"Yuffie said that?" Cloud asked, and shifted just _slightly_ under their imploring eyes.

"That's what Den told me," Marlene clarified. Denzel blushed and turned his head away.

"She didn't exactly say it so nicely," he muttered, and Cloud believed him. Loud footsteps neared. Cloud bent to scoop Marlene up and took hold of Denzel's hand. Silently and speedily, he slipped across the hall into another room, swinging the door shut.

"So, this is where you'll be staying. The bathroom is just inside, though sometimes in the winter the hot water is a little slow."

"Hot water is not necessary."

Anuska's booming voice faded as Tifa led her into the spare room. Cloud let go of the children.

"Were you mean to her, Cloud?" Marlene asked, her eyes once again enlarged to the size of saucers and her lips puckered.

Cloud couldn't think of anything to say. How could he explain his reasons to two small children, to these two particular children? He couldn't.

"Not very cool, Cloud," Denzel said grumpily, kicking at nothing, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"You should apologize," Marlene concluded, hands on her hips in a very Tifa-like fashion. "Then she'll come back."

"It's late. You two should get to bed," Cloud advised, and ushered them from the room. "Marlene, make sure Den brushes his teeth."

He caught the soft "I will" from Marlene and Denzel's grumbling as he descended the stairs. Running his fingers through his hair, he decided that he most definitely needed a drink. Verbal confrontation was just not in his nature. Give him a horde of mutant attackers and a buster sword any day.


	10. Chapter 10

Cloud's first delivery of the month of April was an envelope package to a small ranch in the countryside, about a six hour ride directly from Seventh Heaven. He left Saturday morning so that he'd have time to arrive and find a place to stay before nightfall. The long, winding, meadow roads posed no problem for night riding for a SOLDIER such as himself, but the rocky outcroppings and hills that bled down from a nearby mountain range would have. So, he kissed Marlene's forehead and ruffled Denzel's hair, gave Tifa a reassuring nod, and promised to see them all Sunday afternoon.

The ranch itself was a very pleasant settlement. Several animals mulled around in corrals, and behind the ranch house, barns and stables, long rows of crops stretched out for miles. The land itself was green and fresh looking – so different from the grey smog of Midgar. The town he'd driven through to get to the ranch was reminiscent of his own home. As he pulled up to the front steps of the largest, house-ish looking building, a young boy raced out onto the porch, eyes widening at the sight of Cloud's polished black bike.

"Whoa!" the tyke hollered, spooking one of the horses in a nearby paddock. Cloud dismounted and extracted the package from a waterproof slip attached to his seat.

"Does Garret Fielder live here?" he asked, taking a couple steps towards the stairs. The boy glanced at him briefly before switching his focus back to Fenrir.

"Grandpa Fielder? Yeah, he's out back."

Cloud waited a moment before moving to the foot of the steps and offering the envelope.

"Well, this is addressed to Mr. Fielder. Think you could give it to him for me? I'll need him to sign as well," Cloud explained as amiably as he could.

"What is that?" the boy asked, leaning wistfully against the porch railing.

"My bike," Cloud said simply. "It's called Fenrir," he added.

"Fenrir," the child breathed. "Oh."

Again, Cloud waited a moment, hoping that the kid would just take the package and get his grandfather. Judging by the amount of light, it was midday. If he hurried, he could be back home before it got too dark.

Another five seconds passed.

Cloud figured he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"You can come check it out," he offered, and the boy's eyes lit up, his face flushing, as if he'd just acknowledged Cloud's presence. "But I need you to go get your grandfather first. He needs to sign for this package."

"Oh," the boy said again. "I'll be right back."

He dashed back into the house, slamming the screen door. Cloud stepped back a little so as to lean against Fenrir. Birds were singing in the crop rows a little ways away and in the trees surrounding the house and barns. The sky was a wide expanse of clear blue, adorned with a few puffy white splotches. Cloud breathed in deeply. The air was so clean, so fresh. It smelled fragrant, compared to the pollution he was used to breathing in. He'd missed the country side.

By the time the boy returned, dragging an older man, Cloud had closed his eyes and upturned his face towards the sun.

"This is Grandpa Fielder," the boy announced, and Cloud roused himself.

"Mr. Fielder? I have a package for you," he explained, once again nearing the steps. Mr. Fielder was a middle aged man with a tuft of greying blonde hair atop his head. He reached for the package and inspected the label. He looked momentarily confused.

"Ah, alright then," Fielder decided, and handed the envelope to the boy. "Go on inside with this, Kale. Someone will be wantin' it."

"But he's gonna show me his bike," the boy whined. Fielder nudged the child away and towards the door.

"There's plenty 'a bikes round these parts, Kale, now I said git."

Kale let out a long-winded sigh and trudged back inside, head hung low. Fielder took hold of the clipboard Cloud had produced and scribbled down a signature.

"Thanks," said Cloud and slipped the clipboard back into the waterproof slip. Fielder nodded.

"Thank you," he returned. "You need a place to stay, boy? Midgar is a mighty long way away."

Cloud shook his head, ignoring the urge to ask the man how he knew where he'd come from. He'd probably read it off the package. Cloud hadn't even read the return address or sender information over himself. Tifa had given him the package "from a friend." Lately, he'd been rather distracted.

"No, I'll find a room at one of the inns downtown," he assured the older man. Fielder shrugged and waved his hand.

"You have yourself a good day, then," he called, opening the screen door to the house. Cloud started back towards Fenrir.

"You too, sir," he called out, swinging a leg up and over the bike. Directing a quick nod towards the window he knew the boy Kale to be watching from, he sped out of the yard and back down the road towards town.


	11. Chapter 11

Later that evening, Cloud found himself at a bar and inn much like Tifa's. It was cheap and close to the main road, and the bartender had sold him his favorite drink before he'd realized that he'd ordered something he'd thought only existed in Nibelheim. As he sipped the familiar brew, he let himself relax in the hum of conversation. He listened in to a few close to him for a while, before ordering himself another pint and moving to a seat by the window. From there, he watched people passing, most of them on foot or on horseback.

"I swear, she is the loveliest thing," a drunken voice sang out, breaking through the regular din of the bar. Cloud didn't turn his head, but listened in for a moment. He remembered when he'd thought Tifa was the loveliest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Hush, Ronnie, you scarin' customers."

"But they _need _to know," Ronnie bawled. "The boss' daughter is _so_…" he searched for a word for a moment, and despite himself, Cloud chuckled. "Nice," Ronnie finished. "Such a sweet thing. Always lookin' out for me, makin' sure I got me some water, and some grub when it's hot. Why, yesterday, she even helped me get that nag a' hers under control."

"Sure sounds sweet, Ron."

"Damn straight," Ronnie hollered, and Cloud heard him shuffling around nearby. "And if any a'yuh try anything. _Anything_. I bite'cha leg off, ya'hear?"

"Sure, Ronnie. We won't try nothin'," someone else offered. Cloud, who'd twisted to watch the scene for a moment, turned back to the window just in time to see someone ride up. The animal was at least sixteen hands, with a light dusty brown coat and black mane and tail. It halted right in front of Cloud's space of window, and he watched as a suspiciously feminine rider dismounted. A moment later she strode in through the bar doors.

"Ms. Boss!" Ronnie wailed, falling off his seat. Cloud took a long sip from his mug, and turned just slightly to watch. He was glad he'd swallowed his drink before doing so, because the surprise of seeing Mariel Vice lugging the drunkard up from the ground would have made him spit it out.


	12. Chapter 12

"Ronnie," Mariel sighed, bracing the inebriated ranch hand against the bar counter. "How many times I gotta' come get you?"

"Oh, Boss-daughta'," Ronnie murmured, petting her head fondly. "You always here ta'help me out."

"Come on, Ronnie. Let's get you home."

"Home?" Ronnie was leaning all his weight on her, and Mariel wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to make it all the way outside, let alone get him on her horse.

"Yeah, Ronnie, Khan's going to take us home."

She bit her lip a second later, cursing her big mouth.

"Khan? That _nag!_ I ain't goin' nowhere _near_ that stallion, he gonna' kick me 'gain."

"He ain't gonna' kick you," Mariel soothed, scrambling to get a better grip on Ronnie's shirt. "Come on, Ron," she pleaded under her breath, slinging his arm around her shoulders and hoisting him up as well as she could. Two seconds later, the weight disappeared.

"You can take him in back, if you'd like, Mari Vice," Toby, the bartender was saying under his breath. "Just don't make it too obvious. Take him on out the back."

"Of course, thank you Toby!" Mariel breathed, and turned to whoever had Ronnie. "Thank you so –"

For once, it seemed, those familiar, electric, blue-green eyes had no trouble meeting her own.

"– much," she finished. Cloud had Ronnie's arm clamped down around his neck and was holding the unconscious man up easily.

"It's no problem," Cloud grunted. "Which way am I going?"

Mariel led him through the crowd that had gathered to witness another of Ronnie's spectacles and through the doors. Once they'd rounded the corner of the building and escaped the view of the bar inhabitants, Cloud stooped, letting Ronnie's limp body sag over his shoulder, before rising again. He carried on behind Mariel as though he hadn't just thrown a full-grown drunk man onto his shoulders without straining once.

Mariel shouldered the back door to the bar open, and held it for Cloud. Following him in, she gestured with a hand towards a small, lumpy cot in the corner of the little storeroom.

"You'll be alright here, Ronnie," she murmured once Cloud had relieved himself of his cargo. "I'll come get you in the morning."

Ronnie let out a loud snort, but was otherwise unresponsive. Mariel straightened and followed Cloud out the back door. They stopped in the front, and Mariel thanked Toby again. Cloud threw a couple coins down on the counter before following her out.

"So, how are you?" Mariel asked as they ambled down the street. She held Khan's reins in one hand and gripped his bridle under the chin with the other. Cloud had his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

"I'm alright," he said, looking up at the bright sky. It was early evening, but the dying sun had cast splatters of colors all over the blue canvas – bright oranges and pinks, and near the tops of the far off mountains, a deep bruised purple. As if sensing her next question, Cloud continued; "I came to drop off a package at a ranch down the road," he explained. Mariel stopped herself just in time. She held her tongue for a moment, allowed herself to think.

"At, uh, Mr. Fielder's ranch?"

"Fielder, yeah."

"Ah, I see."

They walked in silence for a moment. Khan's occasional snuffles accompanied the steady beat of their combined footsteps.

"How are the kids?" Mariel asked.

"Fine," Cloud answered simply. They meandered further before he finished. "They miss you."

"Oh," Mariel replied lamely.

"Miss Anuska Ibatini isn't quite what they're used to."

The surprised laughter exploded from Mariel in a snort. Cloud wasn't exactly known for his sense of humor. The snort was followed by giggling when, upon looking up, she found Cloud watching her, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"I know," she murmured, still chuckling. "But she was all I could find short notice, interested in trudging through a snow storm to Midgar."

"Mmhm," Cloud expressed softly, evoking more quiet laughter from Mariel.

"How's Tifa?"

"Good." Cloud paused and took a deep breath.

"How are you-and-Tifa?" Mariel asked timidly a moment later. She wanted him to know that she'd understood his anger last winter. Seventh Heaven was his territory. Its occupants were his family, those closest to his heart.

Cloud took another deep breath.

"She's seeing someone," he said almost inaudibly.

"No kidding!" Mariel gasped. She shuffled the reins in her hands so that she had one free. She laid it lightly on a brawny bicep. "I'm sorry," she offered, as kindly as she could manage. Cloud gave her an odd look.

"It's fine," he mumbled, and stared down at the gravelly ground passing slowly beneath his feet. The last of the sun's rays were disappearing. The oranges and pinks that had previously painted the sky were rapidly being eaten up by deep purple.

"Hey, I don't want you to be caught in the dark. Why don't you head back now? I'll be fine," Mariel asked. Cloud kicked at a rock.

"It's fine," he repeated, though he spoke lowly, as if to himself.

"I know my way," Mariel assured him, and stopped Khan. Cloud halted a few steps afterwards. "You on the other hand, don't."

He stared at her rather blankly for a moment. Mariel threw the reins back over Khan's sleek neck, and reached a hand out towards Cloud.

"Come on," she called. "I'll take you home."

Cloud eyed the horse. He swung his head around to gaze down the street. They'd managed to cover a respectable distance walking. He swung his head back around to fix Mariel with another stare. She gripped a chunk of Khan's ebony mane and pulled herself up into the saddle.

"Get on the horse," she barked and slid forward as far as she could. Cloud accepted the hand she offered with obvious suspicion. He pulled himself on behind her and she sensed his inner turmoil over where to put his hands. "Ever ride a horse before?"

"No," Cloud said shortly. "Chocobos."

Mariel gave a dignified snort. "Those oversized chickens are for sissies," she grunted, and swung Khan around. "Hold on with your legs," she advised casually, and reached a hand back expectantly. Khan had begun to amble forward a little, and when she pressed her heels lightly into his side, he leapt into a quick trot. Cloud's hand practically shot into her own, and she grinned as she pulled it forward to place on her waist. "Hold tight," she called back, and closed her calves around Khan's sides. The hard, bouncy trot bled into a smooth canter that had them flying down the road.

Before long, they'd reached the bar. The orange-y glow of the sky had almost completely disappeared when Cloud pried his hands from Mariel's waist and slipped off onto solid ground.

"Thanks," he called up, and offered a rather awkward salute that put a smile on Mariel's face.

"At ease, Mr. Strife, you're very welcome," she grinned, and nudged Khan back into a gentle trot.

"G'night, Mari."

"Sweet dreams, Cloud! Give my love to the kids and Tifa!" she called back over her shoulder. Mariel didn't catch his reply, but sat back in the saddle and let Khan have his head. The stallion stretched his neck out, and picked up his hooves. The languid canter brought them all the way home.


	13. Chapter 13

Dear Mari,

Please come back and live with us. Me and Denzel and Tifa and Yuffie and Cid and daddy and Vincent miss you. Cloud is sorry for being mean to you. I made a new hot chocolate mix and you have to come try it!

Love Marlene


	14. Chapter 14

Dear Mari,

Please come back. We all miss you, and the new cook's food sucks. She doesn't let us mix up ingredients or invent food, or check Marlene's spelling or help us get ready for bed when Tifa is working. Cloud's sorry. Yuffie told us that he was mean to you and that's why you left and Tifa gave him a lecture and Marlene and me didn't talk to him for two days, so you can come back now. I don't like the new cook.

Love Denzel


	15. Chapter 15

Mari,

I hope the winter wasn't too bad for you. The day you left we were hit with a snow storm. It was freezing, and we ran out of heating oil for a while until Barret could bring us some more. Cloud had to keep going out to cut wood for the fireplace. We all slept down in the restaurant for about three days and kept the fire burning the whole time. The kids were ecstatic. Cloud and I pretty much had to resort to taking shifts for fire duty, so we weren't feeling so excited, but it worked. No body froze. Anuska came a couple days after the worst of the weather calmed down. I'd like to thank you profusely for sending her. I must admit, it was a bit of a surprise, but as the snow melted a bit, we were getting a few customers expecting hot meals, and you know how I am around ovens and stoves. So, no matter what the kids have said in their letters, thank you from the bottom of all our hearts!

On another note, how are you sweetie? Yuffie thinks that Cloud made you leave. I don't want to speculate, and I don't want to get between the two of you, but if it was him, he's sorry now. He's been moping for the past few weeks. We all want you back. You're a part of the Seventh Heaven family, after all.

I suppose there's also been another addition to that family. I don't know if the kids have said anything about it, but I met this guy. I guess we're together now – well, I know we're together now, but this past month has just been incredible. I mean, I waited for Cloud to remember the childhood crush we had on each other for nearly ten years, Mari. I waited on him for ten years, and in one month, I'm in a relationship better than any I've ever been in. His name is Rude. Cloud doesn't like him much because he's a Turk, but what do I care? I think that Mr. Strife's just jealous because I've finally moved on. Sorry. That was mean.

I don't want to bore you with my gushing, so you'll just have to come down to Seventh Heaven to hear the rest of it in person. Mari, he's so handsome… He's big, and strong, and he's got these hazel eyes that he hides behind sunglasses all the time, but he's the sweetest thing, and I'm ranting again. Sorry.

We love you sweetie! Come home soon,

Love Tifa


	16. Chapter 16

Mari let the last letter drop onto her desk. She picked up the first and browsed through Marlene's text, written in large, uneven letters. She dropped that one and picked Tifa's up again. Tifa was seeing someone. Cloud had confirmed it. He'd told her himself. How was he feeling, she wondered? Was he really jealous? Was he hurt?

The night that she'd left, Cloud had asked her what he was supposed to tell the kids to explain that he didn't "love Tifa like that." So, where did that leave her? She rubbed a hand over her forehead, scanning through the second to last paragraph of Tifa's letter. There, the handwriting was more heavily slanted and cramped, as though she'd been writing very quickly.

"Mari, dinner," a loud voice bellowed. It was accompanied by heavy footsteps. "What are those? Are those from the guy with the bike? Do you know him? Is he from Midgar? Do you like him? Can you ask him if I can ride his bike?"

"Kale, hush!" Mariel hissed, waving the insistent boy away with one of the letters. "I'll be downstairs in a minute. Tell Grandpa."

"Are you really allowed to call him grandpa, Mari? I mean, he's not really your grandpa, is he? He's your great…great?"

"Uncle, Kale, great uncle. Now go downstairs and tell my great uncle Fielder and your grandpa Fielder that I will be down for dinner in a minute."

"I'm going, I'm going," Kale sang, and Mari heard him pick up his usual rambling again half way down the stairs. She breathed in deeply and rubbed her chin. She sifted through the letters, smiling at the little smudges and eraser shavings stuck to the kids' letters, becoming more perplexed every time she picked up Tifa's note.

To go, or not to go. That, surely, was the question.

"MARI! DINNER!"

"I'm coming!"


	17. Chapter 17

Words cannot describe the confusion of Sunday morning when Tifa awoke to find herself without a cook. A scribbled note stuck to the door of Anuska's room was all that was left of the towering woman.

**_Ms. Lockhart, Mr. Strife,_**

**_I cannot work in Seventh Heaven during the summer. I have other job. Thank you for your hospitality. Please send my final payment to the address below. Goodbye,_**

**_Anuska Ibatini_**

A rather obscure address was blocked out below the note. Luckily, there were leftovers in the fridge for the children's breakfasts. Tifa made herself an extra-large cup of coffee and settled herself behind the bar, watching Denzel and Marlene chomp away at their food at one of the tables by the window.

"Tifa!"

"Tifa," Denzel echoed Marlene. "Does this mean Mari is coming back?"

Tifa shook her head. "I don't know, kids. I guess she'll come back if she wants to. I'm sure she has another job in her village now."

Faint grumbled came from the two little ones, who huddled together over their plates. Then Marlene stuck her head up.

"I think Cloud needs another lecture," she announced, and Denzel giggled, leaning back in his seat. Tifa let a slow smile spread across her face. Sunshine was pouring in through the windows. She took sip of her coffee.

"Do you two want to go play around outside? Cloud will be home in a couple hours."

"Cloud's coming home!" Denzel remembered, and grinned over at Marlene. "Let's go out. Maybe he'll give us a ride on Fenrir when he comes in."

"Yeah, let's go," Marlene chirped, and they both sprinted towards the kitchen, dishes in hand. They dashed back out seconds later, yelling a quick "thanks for breakfast" in Tifa's direction. She smiled and took another sip of coffee. Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. Cloud would be home, but in a couple hours. She had time. She skipped through her contacts until a short name was highlighted and clicked. She heard the small click as he picked up after the second ring.

"Rude? Hey, can you come over for a little while?"


	18. Chapter 18

Cloud had always enjoyed waking up to the sunshine, the birds and the clean, garden air of Aerith's church. But nothing really beat waking up in his own room, in an actual bed, surrounded by the smell of breakfast being cooked in the kitchen and the sound of little feet trotting around downstairs. It was a very calming way to wake up. He lay for a while just listening.

When he'd returned from his last delivery two days prior, he'd walked in on an intimate moment Tifa and her new _friend_ were having. The children, who'd been hanging onto his legs (each had claimed a foot to step on), had giggled and squealed, and run upstairs, leaving Cloud to hide the grimace on his face and leg it after them.

He'd been so careful, so worried about what the kids would think if he or Tifa ever brought someone else into their lives – both children had lost at least one parent and the multiple Sephiroth incidents of past years had torn apart every new life they'd tried to begin. The same could have been said for Tifa and Cloud, but they were adults now. They were expected to be able to handle changes like that. Cloud had wanted nothing more than to create a stable, loving environment for Marlene and Denzel. He'd believed that that could only be achieved by giving them stable, loving parents, and for years, he and Tifa had taken on that role. They still played the role.

But there she was, hooking up with a goddamn Turk. Sure, the guy was one of the one's who'd helped him on multiple occasions, who'd been involved in saving Marlene and Denzel several times. But he was a Turk. And Tifa, it seemed, was not seeing eye to eye with Cloud when it came to the "two parents" part of the "stable, loving household."

Cloud rolled over onto his back. At least he didn't need to worry about disappointing Tifa by expressing feelings for someone else.

He let out an inaudible chuckle. Expressing feelings: that had never been his forte. And who the hell was he supposed to express his feelings to now, anyways? It was just the kids, Tifa and himself.

And the Turk, blast him.


	19. Chapter 19

Tifa was taking calming breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly, feeling the heat from the steam off her coffee, smelling that lovely calming fragrance of freshly ground coffee beans. She refused to open her eyes, although she had a sneaking suspicion that the children were trying to get her attention. She could literally _feel_ the disapproval wafting off the man sitting opposite her at the bar.

"Tifa," he muttered under his breath. Tifa still refused. She would not spoil her morning more than she had to with another verbal argument. Cloud could glare all he liked. It wouldn't change the way she felt about Rude, the way he felt about her, or the fact that she would see him if she liked.

"Tifa, Den won't put his jacket on."

That was Marlene. Tifa supposed that sooner or later she'd have to open her eyes. It might as well be for Marlene.

"But it's not cold!" Denzel growled, and Tifa heard the rustling of cloth and clothing.

"Don't fight," she heard Cloud offer unhelpfully, and snorted out loud. She ignored the look she knew herself to be on the receiving end of.

"Why don't you two go run outside and come back and tell me how cold it is? Then we can decide whether or not we need jackets. Okay?"

"Okay," Marlene chirped, and Tifa listened to two sets of footsteps trotting off towards the door.

"Tifa, we have to talk sometime," Cloud mumbled.

Tifa opened her eyes.

"What's there to talk about? I like him. He likes me."

Cloud sighed and his shoulders drooped.

"Don't I deserve to be happy?" Tifa mentioned softly. Cloud's head flew up.

"Of course, Tifa, of course, but… this guy… come on, Tifa."

"Just because you haven't found equilibrium doesn't mean that I can't have."

"Tifa, I…" Cloud stopped himself, and hung his head. Tifa hadn't meant to strike so low. But she'd been encouraging and caring and loving for so long. It was time Cloud worked himself out on his own. The pitter-patter of little feet moved both their attentions away from each other.

"There's something outside!" Denzel gasped as they came careening towards the bar counter.

"It's an animal – huge! Come quick!" Marlene pleaded breathlessly. Tifa already had her gloves on, and when she glanced over, Cloud was half-way to the front door, rolling a shoulder threateningly.

"What is it?" Tifa breathed as she caught up to him. He'd stopped on the threshold and was staring confusedly at the quadruped standing calmly next to Fenrir. It shook its golden head and snorted a little. Tifa relaxed. "It's a horse," she called back to the children. "People use them like Chocobos in some places in the country."

To Cloud, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Do you know whose it is?" Cloud's shirt was pulled tight against the muscles of his back, which still hadn't relaxed.

A cry rang out from within the bar. It was enough to startle Cloud out of his trance, and both he and Tifa whirled to face the bar. The children were gone. Tifa froze, and felt a shiver run up her spine. A million questions were on her lips.

Where are they? Who took them? Are they hurt? _Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god_ –

Cloud jerked forward, barking out a low "kitchen!"

Tifa followed right behind him, hands against his back, practically pushing him across the room. They bashed through the kitchen door and flew into the little room. Marlene twirled around to face them. Her face was split in a wide grin. Denzel looked similarly ecstatic. The woman that they were clinging to turned her head, clutching a small duffel bag.

"I heard you were in need of a cook."

Mariel smiled a little sheepishly, Tifa guessed, in response to the alternating looks of absolute horror and relief on hers and Cloud's faces.

"Anuska works a cattle ranch during the summers. She refuses to do anything else," Mari explained. Tifa exploded with a nervous bout of laughter.

"Mari!" she sang, and threw herself into the hug that was offered. Between them and pressed up against their sides, the children giggled.

"I told you she'd come back if we apologized," Marlene chided knowingly. Denzel scoffed.

"The letters were my idea," he boasted quietly. Mari laughed and ruffled his hair.

"I would have come back anyway," she explained, again seeming sheepish. "I'm sorry I stormed out."

At this, all eyes turned to Mr. Cloud Strife, who was almost huddled in the corner of the room, staring blankly out at them.

"You gave us a bit of a shock," Tifa explained hesitantly, trying to catch Cloud's eye. The ex-SOLDIER merely blinked and furrowed his brow.

"He's thinking," Marlene said wisely. Tifa nodded, having recognized the familiar facial expression.

"Thinking?" Denzel questioned. "It looks painful." He pouted his lips and pulled his brow down in a comical imitation of Cloud's current expression.

"Don't think too hard, Strife," Mari called. "You'll hurt yourself."

At this, Cloud looked up, seemingly awakening. He gazed out confusedly at them for a moment; the laughing children, the smiling women.

"I missed something," he mumbled, and the hint of a smile threatened to curl his lip.

"It's good to see you again so soon, Cloud," Mariel said warmly.

Tifa watched Cloud's eyes fixate on the marginally shorter woman next to her, watched him draw in a breath that seemed to inflate his whole body. He lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders slightly.

"Mm," he grunted affirmatively, but Tifa had noticed the three-second delay before his answer. Variables were falling into place in her mind. The whole picture was still unclear, but there it was; one puzzle piece. It was all in the appraising stare, in the gentle swell of breath, in the moment spent visually absorbing before formation of a verbal response.

"Oh."

The sound fell from her lips before she could stop it. Marlene's little chin poked into her side as the girl shifted to peer up at Tifa's face.

"I should make something for us all," she said belatedly, and turned towards the pantry. Mariel beat her to it.

"You go get things ready out front. Customers will arrive sooner or later. I'll just go drop my stuff upstairs."

"Mari, do you want the same room?" Marlene asked, and gravitated back towards Mari, latching her thin arms around Mari's waist.

"As long as it's still there, yes!"

"Oh, it's still there," Marlene assured her maturely. Mari smiled down at her and reached for her bag.

"Let me."

Cloud Strife had darted across the room and hefted the bag before Mari's fingers could latch around the handle. Tifa watched with barely concealed amusement as his cheeks reddened faintly. He stood awkwardly for a moment, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, the duffel bag hanging from one hand.

Tifa realized that he'd never really had to officially pursue a woman before. Poor thing didn't know what to do with himself. The giggles that threatened to pour out pushed harder against her clamped lips. Cloud was rarely so visibly flustered.

Thankfully, Mari seemed to have understood the situation, because without trying to force him to make eye contact, she strode towards the door.

"Thank you," she said, laying a hand on Cloud's arm for a nanosecond. "Kids, why don't you pull out some ingredients? We'll make a big lunch for everyone."

The kids made a dash for the pantry, and Cloud took his chance to escape after Mari through the kitchen door. Tifa exhaled carefully, succeeding in stifling all giggle except two or three.

"If you two make a mess, you're going to be responsible for cleaning it up, alright?" she called to the pantry-raiders. Receiving several grunts and growls of acknowledgement, Tifa left the kitchen and stepped out into the front of Seventh Heaven. As she spread the table clothes over each table, and made sure that all the salt and pepper shakers were reasonably full, she strained her ears for any hint of interaction coming from upstairs. When she had resigned herself to the inevitable silence, she sent up an unvoiced prayer for Cloud, and let slip a few more giggles.

Mariel Vice could cook for the Seventh Heaven family as long as she lived if she could make Cloud that flustered on a daily basis.

The snort practically forced its way from Tifa's nose and she doubled over against a chair, hysterical giggles spewing forth from her lips. She struggled to pull the cell from her pocket, and had to locate the name in her contacts through tears of mirth, but it was worth it. Yuffie's squeal of delight promised that by lunch time, every member of the Seventh Heaven family, immediate and extended, would be present to watch Cloud hit puberty.

"Tifa, are you okay?"

It was Mari, coming downstairs, doubtless with Cloud in tow, but Tifa was once again doubled over the chair in a fit of giggles at the idea of Cloud hitting puberty, and was unable to respond.


	20. Chapter 20

Mariel was almost certain that the joke that had had Tifa laughing hysterically on and off for two hours concerned herself and Cloud Strife, but other than that, she was just as clueless as the rest of the household. The children found it absolutely hilarious that Tifa was so incapacitated. Mari couldn't keep herself from chuckling now and then, and Cloud was either very spaced out or at war with himself. He seemed to swing back and forth between the two states of mind. Mariel watched him with some amusement as she layered up a dozen large, open faced sandwiches with cheese, ham, tomatoes and some basil sprinkled on here and there. A pot of beef vegetable stew simmered on the stove behind her.

She and Marlene were seated at the little table in the kitchen. Marlene was mixing up a rather big pitcher of milk and cocoa powder, intent on making the best chocolate milk the world had ever seen. Denzel had disappeared upstairs. Cloud sat at the end of the table farthest away from the two girls and was peeling potatoes with record sluggishness.

"I think my cousin Kale peels potatoes faster," she decided grimly, and Marlene grinned ruefully. Cloud looked up a moment later, knife halting a centimeter from the potato. "By all means, take your time," Mariel teased, but smiled so as to neutralize any venom in the comment.

Cloud stared at her face for a moment longer, and then went back to his potato. About half an hour later, Cloud had finished with the potatoes and was sitting obediently while Marlene fed him doses of her "world-famous chocolate milk." She'd watch his face, add a little of something else, and feed him another spoonful. Having gathered Cloud's potatoes in a group, Mariel set about chopping them up with practiced ease and speed.

But she was becoming increasingly unsettled. As she worked, she had begun to notice out of the corner of her eye, that Cloud's head would periodically tilt upwards and then sink back down. It had only been several minutes prior when she'd caught him looking at her that Mariel had realized that he was sporadically peeping up at her from under his eyelashes, hoping to be discreet. Mariel paused in her chopping for a moment. Whatever was troubling him had to do with her. What could it be?

It hit her like a brick, startling her back into chopping the potatoes up into edible chunks.

He wanted to apologize. He didn't know how with everyone around. The way he'd looked at her wordlessly after dropping her bag on her bed upstairs some hours before supported that theory.

Mariel tried to think of a way to make it easier on him, but couldn't. There was nothing she could do short of telling him that he didn't need to apologize, an option which she thought would be rather humiliating for Cloud. If Cloud ever strove to hide anything, it was his troubles and pain from his family. For the time being, she resolved to wait and let him sort himself out. It wasn't her responsibility.

"Mari, open," Marlene ordered, and Mariel looked up. Marlene was guiding a spoonful of chocolate milk towards her face. Mariel opened her mouth accordingly, looking up just in time to see Cloud raise his head.

Their eyes met as her lips closed around the wooden utensil. A second of complete stillness and silence passed and then Cloud blushed a shade of red so violent that Mariel thought he was choking. She pushed Marlene's spoon away, swallowing hastily.

"Cloud, are you alright?" she asked, reaching across the table in panic. The vibrant color did not fade from Cloud's cheeks. In fact, if anything, it deepened. Both the table and chair scraped noisily across the floor as Cloud stood up. He stormed out into the hallway just as Tifa rounded the corner to enter the kitchen. Mariel heard the resulting "oomph!" Moments later, she heard the telltale thumping as Cloud dashed upstairs. A door slammed.

Marlene giggled. Despite her confusion, Mariel did too. Tifa, who'd been pushed back against the door to the kitchen, peered in inquisitively.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Marlene was feeding me some chocolate milk, and I think Cloud choked or something," Mariel laughed softly. "I'd never seen him so red. Maybe he thought it was funny, but didn't want to laugh."

Tifa hummed in contemplation, and Mariel was hopeful that they'd let the subject drop. Unfortunately, Marlene had seen more than Mariel realized.

"No," the girl proclaimed loudly. "He blushed _after_ you looked up at him. Just like a tomato."

It was a completely innocent statement. People blush when they're trying to suppress something, such as laughter. The fact that Mariel had looked up just in time to watch the event happen had nothing to do with Cloud's astonishing blush. A completely innocent observation, indeed.

Tifa exploded with a new bout of giggles, leaning heavily on the threshold of the door, and Mariel had the distinct impression that she was laughing at more than the fact that Cloud's blush had been likened to that of a tomato.

"Oh," she moaned, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'll go get him."

She staggered off towards the stairs, only to pass by again a moment later, still shaking with laughter. She returned clutching a cold bottle of beer in her hand. Only little snickers were escaping her lips now.

"He's gonna' need this," she grinned, and ascended the stairs. Mariel heard a door open and close, and then all was silent.

"What's he going to need?" Marlene asked, hand frozen over the chocolate milk.

"Nothing, nothing," Mariel said, waving the question away. "How's that chocolate milk coming?"


	21. Chapter 21

The length of Mariel's stay at Seventh Heaven remained wholly undefined for two months. Mariel herself hadn't decided if she'd stay for the summer and then return to her family during the winter months or take up a permanent position in the Seventh Heaven crew. By the last week of May, however, occasionally helping Tifa with settling guests in rooms became more Mari's responsibility than ever. With the expansion of business considering the newly built inn and refurbished bar, Tifa had to focus more on the financials of her work. She wasn't very experienced at it – neither was Mari or any other adult in the building – and the books caused her a great deal of stress. In short, Mari was happy to take over the happier aspect of greeting customers, signing them in and assuring their comfort. Tifa let her do what she needed to, and before long, Mariel and Marlene were making monthly runs to a cosmetics supplier to stock up on little shampoo packets, soap bars, nail kits and the occasional shower gel.

Tifa's Seventh Heaven Bar and Inn was beginning to thrive. Word had gotten out, Mariel supposed, but she and Tifa liked to think that it was also due, in part, to the unique feel and service of Seventh Heaven. It was run by a family, but not an old one. This family had experienced the hardships of the past years, and knew where people were coming from. The life and sports-talk and drink in the bar up front were kept reasonable by the homey, comfortable if not small rooms for travelers upstairs, behind the bar. The addition of the kitchen and the two-course meal for guests (with her new duties, Mariel found it hard to keep up with three course meals) kept the guest list to mainly families and honest people who tended not to throw up in rooms or demolish property. Of course, Cloud's SOLDIER-eyed, muscled presence was always a plus when things got a little rowdy.

It all came down to comfort, Mariel concluded. Did she feel comfortable enough at Seventh Heaven? Did she feel like family? She often found herself contemplating this at odd moments of the day – during lulls between customers, at night before she fell asleep, or when she took Khan out for exercise in the mornings.

She'd definitely have to bring her horse back to the ranch before the winter cold hit. Seventh Heaven didn't have adequate cold weather lodgings for him, unless Tifa let Mariel bring the stallion in to one of the rooms. Mariel greatly doubted that that would be sanctioned by the inn keeper. Poor Khan, she laughed to herself.

On the bar stool next to hers, Vincent Valentine cocked his head to the side just slightly. She waved away his curiosity. He tilted his chin back and took a sip of his coffee. Mariel followed his example, slurping a little loudly. The door into the bar was open, and beyond it, Mariel heard Tifa talking to Cloud. They were hefting heavy packages of unassembled desks to each of the rooms upstairs. Mariel had helped them carry up the chair packages earlier, but in doing so had missed her morning coffee. She'd decided, upon seeing and testing the weight of the tables, that those with superhuman strength were better suited to finish the job, hence her current station at the bar with Vincent.

She swiveled on her stool.

"Vincent," she said quietly. Vincent shifted and she took her cue to continue. "Do you see yourself as part of the family here?"

Boots clunked over the threshold, and Tifa let out a muffled grunt as she bumped into a booth.

Vincent swirled his coffee, staring down into his mug. Then he shrugged. Mariel pursed her lips as she deciphered his response.

"I don't want to stay unless I do feel that way," she added absently, leaning forward on her elbows. Vincent took another sip of coffee. Cloud's steady, deliberate footsteps neared the bar. Mariel really didn't pay any attention to them until she realized that they'd hesitated right behind her. She looked up from her coffee just as a lovely white flower was placed delicately on the bar in front of her. Mariel watched dumbly as Cloud's gloved hand, which had curved around from behind her, retracted. The hollow thump of his boots was quicker as he made for the stairs. Mariel and Vincent sat in silence as the sound faded.

Then, with the threat of a smirk curling his thin lips, Vincent set his coffee down and dismounted the bar stool.

"There's your answer," he grunted, and disappeared. Mariel picked the flower up gingerly. It looked familiar – like the flowers at Aerith's church. Marlene and Denzel had taken her there the summer before. The place was sacred to Cloud. The woman who had tended those flowers was sacred to Cloud.

Lifting the flower to her nose, Mariel headed for the kitchen. She poured a little lukewarm water into a tall glass and set the flower in it. It would be the first item to grace her new bedside table, which received a healthy amount of sunlight throughout the day. She made her way upstairs slowly, cupping the glass tenderly, watching the little plant sway back and forth against the sides of the makeshift vase.

Did she feel at home in Seventh Heaven? The answer was not, as Vincent had claimed, right in front of her. But it was slowly evolving and taking shape in her mind. It wouldn't be long now. She'd know soon.


	22. Chapter 22

Tifa set her package down on the bed of the second to last room upstairs. Cloud would be bringing the last along shortly. He'd taken a small detour earlier.

Tifa whipped out a small pocket knife and had begun to slice through the tape holding the box together when the man himself came flying into the room. He headed straight for the corner of the room, keeping his back to Tifa. But she'd already seen his hands shaking and the bright blush coloring his hollowed cheeks.

"Everything go alright?" she asked casually, slicing through another strip of tape. She bit her lip to stifle the giggles when Cloud's back went rigid.

"What?" he waffled, turning to stare confusedly at her.

Tifa grinned. "How's Mari?"

Cloud's narrowing eyes and darkening cheeks spurred the eager laughter from Tifa's lips. She closed her pocket knife and set it on the bed before crossing the room to place a kiss on Cloud's vibrant cheek.

"You are so cute," she gushed, holding his face for a moment. "I didn't know it would be so much fun to watch you discover the opposite sex, Cloud."

"_What?_" Incredulity seeped through his tone. "Tifa…" he warned, still trembling a little. His threat was shrugged off easily.

"You should talk to her."

"I talk to her," Cloud barked back immediately.

"I mean _talk_ to her, Cloud. Flirt. Show her you're interested."

Cloud's rouged cheeks promptly drained of all color. "_Flirt_?" he breathed.

"Do what feels natural, Cloud. Compliment her. She'll recognize it if you're being genuine."

"But," he hesitated, toeing the box he'd recently let go of. "But Tifa… what if… what if I…"

"Cloud Strife, if you 'what-if' one more time, I will set Mariel up on a date with Reno."

Cloud's eyes hardened and his lips tightened. The unspoken threat was heavy in the air. Tifa continued.

"And if you don't kiss her by the end of the week, I will seduce her myself. Got it?"

At this, Cloud looked a little confused, but scurried from the room as well as an ex-SOLDIER can, fists clenched. Tifa took up her pocket knife again. At this rate, she'd need her daily dose of Rude by noon. She sighed, and felt the shape of her cell phone quite firmly in her pocket.

It would be nice to have a little more muscle around, she reasoned. The tables were heavy and they still needed to be put together – all of them.

She drummed her fingers against her thigh.

Seeing Rude with her might spur Cloud on further, she continued to theorize.

Her fingers quickened and then stilled.

"What the hell?" she grunted and pulled the phone from her pocket.

"Rude? Hey sweetie, are you busy? Well, do you want to come over and help me build some desks?"


	23. Chapter 23

The rush of warm summer wind against her face coupled with the familiar beat and rhythm of Khan below her cued the relaxation of Mariel's shoulders and back. Despite the inevitable sore backside and chapped lips, long rides across the country were Mariel's favorites. Flowers were in bloom and various life forms fluttered here and there, occasionally fleeing from Khan's hooves. The route was familiar and their pace was steady. Mariel was excited to see her family again, and she was sure that Khan would appreciate being out of the crowded, polluted city.

But she was also looking forward to going back to Seventh Heaven. She was both apprehensive and eager about the coming evening. Cloud had saved a long-distance delivery for today, so that Mariel could get a ride back after dropping Khan off. The prospect of the coming adventure made her giddy, and now and then, sensing his rider's thrill, Khan would prance and kick up his heels. Mariel checked his speed and behavior as much for her own sake as his.

She arrived at the ranch late in the afternoon. Kale was on the porch with Grandpa Fielder to meet her, and successfully spooked all the animals in the vicinity when Mariel informed him that Motorcycle-Man would be paying them a visit.

"His name is Cloud Strife," Mariel had scolded. "That's Mr. Strife to you."

Grandpa Fielder, who had led the way into the kitchen, laughed softly.

"Cloud Strife," Kale sang obnoxiously. "_Mr. _Cloud Strife – Mari has a crush!"

"Hush, Kale," Mariel spat, taking a seat at the table. "He's a friend – that's all."

"Sure," Kale drawled out, digging his spoon into the mashed potatoes on his plate. Grandpa Fielder set a similar dish in front of Mariel, and she tucking in happily. Her snacks had run out half way through her journey and she was feeling rather famished. "Hey, do you think you could convince him to let me borrow the keys for a bit?"

"What keys?" Mariel grumbled into her potatoes.

"To Fenrir – the bike! I won't hurt it, I just want fifteen minutes."

"Absolutely not," Grandpa Fielder declared from the counter behind them. Mariel nodded, and swallowed a mouthful of potatoes.

"Yeah, _no_, Kale. You're not even allowed to _touch_ Fenrir. Cloud will kill me if anything happens to that stupid bike."

"Aw, not if you give him a kiss he won't…"

The wad of potatoes that went soaring through the air, over the table, hit Kale square on the nose with a satisfying '_splat'_. Mariel turned her nose up and shoveled another lump into her mouth.

Kale's return-fire was stopped by Grandpa Fielder, who cast a disapproving eye on Mariel. She shrugged his glare off.

"Go clean up, Kale," Grandpa Fielder ordered. Kale slumped off. Mariel sank down in her chair, and looked outside. The sky was just beginning to turn orange. If Cloud didn't arrive soon, they wouldn't be able to make it over the mountain range before the sun's light faded.

But even as she thought this, the deep purr of a high-performance engine rolled into the front yard. Kale's exclamation and scrambling feet could be heard as he thundered downstairs. Mariel beat him to the door by a few seconds.

"Cloud –"

"Motorcycle-Man!" Kale boomed. He tore out of the house, past Mariel on the porch, down the stairs, and straight into Cloud's chest. Cloud took the hit with a small "oomph". Horror-struck but trying her best not to laugh, Mariel ran after her cousin.

"Kale!" she yelled, and pulled him back by his shoulders. "Go wait inside!" she ordered, pointing sternly at the house.

"B-but," Kale turned brimming, widened eyes on her. He swung his head around to the motorcycle behind Cloud, and then back to Mariel. "Just fifteen minutes."

"It's not my bike, Kale," Mariel sighed reluctantly. "You need to ask _him_ politely. And no whining if he says no."

Kale straightened and clasped his hands in front of his waist. "Please, Mr. Strife, would you let me ride your bike for a few minutes? I'll just go around the farm and come back…"

Cloud threw a quick glance in Mariel's direction before reaching back to pick up a helmet that he'd brought with him.

"I drive," he said simply, and swung a leg over Fenrir, sliding far enough forward for Kale to hop on behind him. Kale looked momentarily disappointed but jumped up behind Cloud all the same. Mariel shook her head at him and his extended tongue.

"I'll go make sure I'm packed," she informed them. She nodded at Cloud. "Don't let him push you around, Strife. He's a manipulative little bugger."

Mariel disappeared into the house to the sound of Fenrir's revving engine and Kale's cackling laughter.

A quarter of an hour later, she found herself on the porch, waiting with Grandpa Fielder, a small bag of snacks and a few extra clothing articles by her feet. Fenrir rolled into sight, Cloud impassive and Kale flushed and grinning.

"You have to get one of these, Grandpa," the boy exclaimed as he slid from the seat. "It's faster than Joni's four-wheeler!"

"Is it?" Grandpa Fielder mused, and turned a critical eye towards the owner of the bike, who had ascended the stairs to take Mariel's bag.

"Oh, no, it's alright," Mari began, but Cloud tilted his chin up and let his eyes meet hers for a slow second. The handles of the bag escaped her fingers, and Cloud backed down the stairs. Shaking herself, Mariel pressed a kiss to Kale's forehead. He failed to dodge her lips, and voiced his disapproval with a long "aw!"

"I'll see ya'll soon," Mariel announced, rather falsely. They all knew she wouldn't be back before spring settled next year. Grandpa Fielder grunted.

"You sure he's all right?" he muttered under his breath, and Mariel followed the direction of his jutted chin, towards Cloud. Mariel almost let her incredulous cry slip past her lips, but took a moment to think.

Cloud was busy strapping her bag to the back of Fenrir. The huge black motorbike was threatening enough on its own, but its rider, too, Mariel realized, could raise suspicions in a small town like hers. Cloud was dressed, as always, in black. A good portion of his clothing was leather. Plus, no one could mistake the story behind those glowing eyes.

No wonder Grandpa Fielder's expression had gone so sour. Mariel laughed a little and rested a hand reassuringly on his arm.

"I'm sure. Cloud's a good friend."

"Hm," Grandpa Fielder huffed. "You be careful, now," he called to Cloud. The ex-SOLDIER turned around and gave Grandpa Fielder a quick nod.

"I'll remind Mariel to call you when we get to Seventh Heaven," Cloud offered as Mariel neared the bike.

"When ya' get to _what_?"

Fenrir's roar drowned out Grandpa Fielder's question and Mariel's subsequent laughter. Waving a gnarled hand dismissively, Grandpa Fielder disappeared back into the house, leaving Kale to see them off.

"No fair, Mari. You get to ride in the front," Kale whined. Mariel opened her mouth to refute him – Cloud had placed Kale behind him; he'd do the same with Mariel – but turned to find Cloud sliding back as far as possible on the seat.

"Cloud, don't you want me to sit in back?"

"We'll be going fast. I don't want you to fly off."

Ignoring Kale's snickers of delighted laughter, Mariel attempted to slide herself onto the bike without touching Cloud. She managed – just barely. The bike wobbled for a moment before she heard Cloud's boots crunch against the ground beneath them. The helmet he'd made Kale wear slid down over her ears. Cloud gave the top of it a little pat, and she clipped the chin strap together.

"Hold on here," Cloud said, and although he spoke over the engine of the bike, the volume of his voice seemed to be minimal. Mariel took hold of the lip of the seat (much like the horn of a saddle, she decided) and offered Kale a weak smile.

"Toodles," she called, and Kale waved. Cloud leaned down, and suddenly she felt that she was extremely close to him. She could feel him all along the length of her back. Leather creaked as he took hold of the handle bars.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, directly behind her ear. His voice rasped nervously.

"Fine," Mariel replied honestly, and she felt him push off the ground. Fenrir began to roll out of the yard. Kale was bellowing farewells, but it wasn't long until Mariel couldn't hear any of them. She sent one last wave, just as the main road came in to sight.

"Hold on," Cloud instructed, and as the bike leapt forward, Mariel felt herself leaning as well as sliding back into Cloud. She realized minutes later that her hands were no longer fastened onto the lip of the seat between her legs, but gripping Cloud's knees behind her with great force.

"Oh, geez," she muttered, prying her fingers away, and Cloud seemed to hear her because she felt his laughter.

"It's alright," he said in her ear. A tight bend in the road was coming up rather quickly, and Mariel groaned aloud without realizing it, shrinking back into Cloud, her fingers reattaching themselves to his knees.

Warmth from Cloud's palm seeped through her shirt as he slid his hand over her stomach to hold her securely against him. Simultaneously, the bike seemed to decelerate.

"It's like riding Khan," Cloud said, suddenly louder over the quieting engine. "Move with the bike. You won't fall."

Slowly, as if easing her into it, she felt him press down against her. She bent with him, leaning forward and to the side. The bike whipped around the corner and righted itself. Cloud sat back. Mariel straightened herself a little.

"Okay," she said and took hold of the handlebars, just between Cloud's hands. "I got this."

Against her back, Cloud's brief chuckle was unmistakable.


	24. Chapter 24

From her place at the bar, Tifa watched the two arrivals, grinning and giggling like teenagers, with a sense of blossoming pride and happiness. The way that Cloud reached automatically to steady Mariel as she dismounted Fenrir, and the ease with which she accepted his touch spoke volumes. Mariel's tendency to trail her hand over Cloud's back, arm or side whenever she moved around him – as one would do with a skittish animal – was also suspiciously tender. It seemed to be the gestural equivalent of a spoken _I'm here_.

"They seem to be getting along well," Rude muttered under his breath as Mariel's laughter rang out again. Tifa sighed and nodded.

"Yep. I guess this means I won't be seducing her myself."

"Come again?" Rude said, swallowing his drink heavily. "If I understand correctly, you won't be seducing anybody."

He slid his hand over her waist. "Anybody, except me."


	25. Chapter 25

Cloud's deadline loomed ahead of him. He knew he had to make it. The consequences if he didn't would be horrific. He knew his punishers would take much delight in exacting them, too. But the fear that constricted his chest every time he pondered the task made him shy away.

He'd never undertaken such an assignment. He'd left home at a young age to strike out on his own, he'd undergone training that would have killed lesser men, fought unimaginable foes multiple times, faced his own demons, watched loved ones die, and protected those he had left with all he had. He'd saved the entire planet before! But he'd never, ever, done anything like this.

He didn't even know how to approach it! Should he pick a location and a time, and lure his target into position? Was he expected to just dive in and do it at a random time? What if he was no good? He'd never really had any practice before. Well, Zack had presented him with a few specimens for experimentation, but Lord knows that hadn't gotten him very far. What if he _missed_? What if his attention wasn't wanted? Why had such a task been assigned to him when his overlord knew how many variables were at play? It was mission impossible, surely. He'd been up for hours several nights in a row now, thinking about it.

Maybe it was too much for him. Maybe it was best that he give up and move on. He could handle the consequences. He was Cloud Strife. Tifa could bitch all she wanted, but there was no way that Cloud would be kissing Mariel Vice by the end of the week. It was Wednesday already, for fuck's sake!

A large tankard of frothy beer was slammed down onto the counter in front of Cloud, and he jumped. Tifa grinned cruelly at him from behind the bar.

"Grow a pair, Cloud," she muttered. "Stop thinking about it and do it."

He opened his mouth to retort nastily, but Tifa was already a step ahead of him. She called across the room to Mariel, who was sitting with Rude at one of the booths.

"Hey Mari, have you ever met our friend Reno?"

Cloud couldn't repress the dangerous shivers that traversed his spine, or uncurl his fingers from around the handle of the tankard. He was lucky the glass hadn't shattered into his palm yet.

"He's Rude's partner," Tifa continued.

"No, I don't think I've met him," Mari answered lightly. Cloud shook with anger. She was walking into a trap! Tifa was playing a very dangerous game. He focused all the power he had into the glare that was directed at the bartender.

"Oh really? Bright red hair, sparkly blue eyes – he's pretty tall too, unlike some of the men you and I are used to," Tifa joked jovially, even under Cloud's murderous gaze. Damn her, she was even playing the height card. Now _that_ was below the belt. "He's a handful, but fun to hang out with anyways. Gets straight to the point, if you know what I mean."

Cloud tipped the enormous glass back. That son-of-a-bitch, man-handling, cheap, drunkard, sleaze-ball of a Turk wouldn't get anywhere near Mariel if he had anything to do with it.

"That sounds like my partner," Rude rumbled. Mari replied politely, although it sounded like she knew something was going on.

"Tell me Rude, is he still single? Because the last time I met up with him, he was pretty lonely."

The bottom of the glass hit the bar with a hollow thump. Still tearing Tifa to pieces with his glare, Cloud wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stomped upstairs to his room.

Goddamn her. Couldn't she keep her nose out of other people's business? He'd said that he could handle Tifa's bitching and he could. He could even handle Reno.

But, Reno moving in on _his_ girl? _Fuck_ no. The only way he'd be able to handle that situation was with the aid of his trusty, five-foot-long buster sword. He allowed himself a small smile at that thought as he collapsed onto his bed. He could hear Tifa chatting and occasionally laughing, but Mari seemed not to be responding, and it was normal for Rude to be completely silent. He stretched his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in through his nose. He let it out slowly, hoping to diffuse his temper a little.

In the silence before he drew his next breath, his finely tuned ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps nearing the door to his room. He lay as still as possible, listening to the light sigh that was expelled shortly afterwards. Then someone knocked on his door.

Not just someone. He knew who had knocked on his door. Of course he knew. There was a split second in which he considered not answering. Maybe she'd think he'd fallen asleep.

"Yeah," he hollered. He liked to think that he'd moved past the days when he would have pretended to be asleep to avoid interaction. That said he felt his cheeks heat up just a little when Mari poked her head in.

"Can I come in?" she asked timidly. Cloud sat up, suddenly conscious of the way he'd been sprawled on his bed.

"Sure," he tried to smile. It may have come out like a grimace. He removed the expression all together. Mari loitered around the door for a moment.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked, shyly again. He found her meekness mildly discomforting. Was she afraid that he'd blow up on her like he had last winter? He wanted to doubt it. Surely she'd noticed a change in his behavior towards her. Tifa hadn't exactly made it easy to be discreet.

"No," he answered simply. He'd moved his hands to his lap, and now they felt sticky. He'd just remembered his task. Now would be the perfect time – they were alone. She'd come to him, not the other way around. He swallowed heavily. How in _hell_ was he supposed to get her close enough to kiss her?

_Goddamn you Tifa._

"If you want to take a nap, its fine," Mari was saying, gesturing broadly with her hands in a pacifying manner. "It's just a bit awkward down there," she chuckled a little, but the pleasant sound died out when Cloud forgot to echo it. "You know, third wheel…"

He was trying not to stare. There was something about the way her lips moved when she talked. Something about the way they formed the sounds that issued from her throat that drew him like a moth to a flame. That mouth had been in his head and in his dreams for the past week, God help him.

"I – I can leave, Cloud, really, are you okay?" She even took a step forward, hand outstretched. Was she going to feel his forehead? Was that _the_ time? Would that work? Were her hands sticky like his? "Cloud?"

"Fine," he barked, forcing the word off his tongue. _Way to make an impression, genius_. "I'm fine. Thank you."

"Oh, okay. Good!" she smiled widely, and this time (he congratulated himself) he remembered to smile in response. Then he noticed that she was gripping her wrist so hard that the disruption of her blood flow was visible.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked hesitantly, kicking himself for not asking before. She voiced a quiet affirmative and he gestured lamely to the chair by his desk.

_Should have given her the bed_, he lamented. _Why would I give her the bed? That's so much more awkward._

Mariel pulled the chair out and looked around the room nervously. God, he couldn't kiss her if she was over there. _Should have given her the bed._

His fingers were balled into fists before he realized it. Who knew one little kiss would cause him so much stress?

"Cloud?"

Shit. He'd missed something. He'd spaced out again. He met her eyes a little frantically.

"Cloud, I know this is a… delicate subject for you, but I just wanted to say that you don't have to apologize for last winter."

Yes, he did.

"I understand what you were trying to say, or what I _think_ you were trying to say, and that it was hard for you."

He'd fucked up. That's all there was to it.

"I don't mean to assume or speculate or any of that," she continued, no longer making eye contact. "But you look like you've been a little stressed lately, and I don't want you to be. I mean, don't hurt yourself trying to apologize. I understand, really. And I'm glad that we're past this, because I want to be your friend."

She looked up as she said this, but due to the nature of her most recent statement, he hoped she wouldn't notice that he'd been staring. Again.

"Oh?" was all he could force out. _Friend?_ _Really?_ What had Tifa said? Kiss, seduce, _talk!_ That was it. Flirt. His cheeks heated again. _Oh God_. Compliment her. Say what comes naturally. That's what Tifa said.

Compliment her? _I love your mouth. I think it's adorable that your feet are so little. I like to watch you with the kids. It pleases me that your hands are smaller and softer than mine. I've dreamed about what you look like right when you wake up. _

He opened his mouth. He wet his lips. He met her eyes, and tried not to blush any more than was necessary. He tried again. And again.

The chair creaked as Mariel shifted uneasily. She tried valiantly for another smile.

"Okay," she said and stood. Panic was starting to settle in Cloud's stomach. Why couldn't he speak?! He _had_ to speak! He couldn't just let her leave like this! They'd made such good progress last week when he'd brought her home on Fenrir. Where had that gone?

But she was leaving, walking to the door, gripping the handle. She turned one last time and Cloud opened his mouth again. All he heard was the rapid whoosh of air being inhaled and exhaled past his own lips.

Her mouth tugged upwards again, but her brow was crinkled. "Don't hurt yourself, Strife," she grimaced, before leaving the room.

Cloud let himself fall back against his pillows. The clock on his desk ticked noisily, like the quickened beating of his heart. He felt overheated and exhausted. Maybe he needed sleep. Had he slept well the night before? He couldn't remember. A nap would sort him out. Yes, that sounded good.

He surrendered to the pull of sleep with a sense of desperation he couldn't remember ever feeling before.


	26. Chapter 26

"I did it."

"Excuse me?" Tifa dropped her cleaning rag onto the bar and leaned down to hear him better. Cloud ground his teeth together and wrapped his hand farther around the large mug of alcohol he'd been consuming.

"You asked how 'it' was going," he clarified hatefully. "I said I've done it."

Tifa inspected his face carefully. He carefully avoided looking at her.

"Bullshit," she decided a moment later. "You can't have."

"Why ever not, Tifa?" he ground out violently. Tifa leaned back and took up her rag again.

"Because, grumpy, you wouldn't be over here moping with your jug of booze if you'd kissed her."

"Oh yeah?" he snarled.

"Yeah!" she growled back. "You'd be _elsewhere_ getting it the fuck on! I swear the tension between the two of you..."

Cloud scoffed and took a gulp of his drink. The kids had finally coaxed him from his room half an hour ago. He'd been locked there since Mariel had left, on Wednesday. It was now Friday evening, and his plan was to get as drunk as possible, as fast as possible. This was already his second tankard. He took another gulp and wiped the froth from his upper lip with his sleeve.

"Charming," Tifa commented sourly, but he ignored her.

"Go to hell Tifa."

"_Excuse _me?" Now she slammed the rag down, and learned in again, determined to gain his attention.

"I said, go to hell," he grunted. "Your little threats won't change a thing. I just make things worse with every second I spent with her."

"You're going to have to explain more thoroughly than that, Mr. Strife."

He reached out and gripped her hand with such strength that it almost hurt.

"I _can't_ do this," he hissed gravely. "I _cannot _do this. Last time, I couldn't even ask her to stay longer. How do you expect me to get her close enough to _kiss_ her?"

"Oh, Cloud –"

"I tried to say something nice, something natural, something that I like about her. But nothing came out, Tifa. _Nothing_. She just left. She doesn't even like me, Tifa. She doesn't even like me."

"Sure, she does," Tifa soothed, trying to pull the alcohol away from him. He held on tight, hardly noticing her attempts.

"No, she doesn't. She said: _don't hurt yourself, Strife._ That's what she said, with this face. And then she left."

"And you locked yourself in your room for two days, like a big, grown-up boy," Tifa mumbled to herself. Cloud seemed not to hear. The massive amount of alcohol that he'd ingested seemed to be taking effect all of the sudden. She watched his eyes glass over a little. He wobbled on his stool as he leaned in to grab the neck of her shirt.

"I just – I just _feel_," he tried, staring desperately into her eyes. "I just want –"

He let go of her shirt to grip his own top, right over his heart. He cringed and looked down at the scratched bar.

"You really like her," Tifa offered softly. Cloud's head shot up so fast she feared he might fall off the stool.

"It's not 'like', Tifa. It's worse," he told her, staring, with those tortured blue-greens, into her eyes. "It's _obsession."_

He almost looked afraid. Tifa had to restrain laughter. He still took himself way too seriously…

"I want _so much_ from her, for her, Tifa. But I hardly know her. I didn't grow up with her like I did with you, I didn't fight alongside her. She's my unhealthy obsession. That's the only possibility. It's not right."

Ah, the heart of the problem. She'd never seen him so outwardly upset, and she put a hand to his cheek. "When will I ever stop mothering you, Cloud Strife?" she wondered quietly. He looked confusedly at her gentle smile. "That's not obsession, Cloud. That's true affection. Love can happen in an instant. It's unorthodox."

He swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed sharply. He mouthed the word, air rasping from his throat. _Love._

Someone flew down the stairs and greeted the few customers sitting at the booths cheerily. There was no mistaking who it was, and Cloud's eyes widened massively. He flexed his fingers, but found that Tifa had successfully stolen the tankard from his grip. He turned his frightened eyes to hers again.

"Tifa," he whispered. She eyed him steadily.

"You can do it," she encouraged. Cloud shook his head almost imperceptibly. "You can take my word for it, Cloud. She likes you too."

A soft, soulful voice made them both pause and peer around at the customers. One of the booths had a guitar-player, who was strumming gently at his instrument. A second later, he furrowed his brow and sang out a few lyrics. The first, feminine voice echoed them in harmony. Tifa couldn't help but smile as Cloud's eyes zeroed in on Mariel, who sat on a chair near the guitar-player, her chin tipped up towards the ceiling, her lips parted in song.

A few more voices joined the mix, but every now and then, Mariel's soulful harmonies could be heard weaving in and out of the others. Cloud remained transfixed, fully turned in his seat. Tifa watched him idly as she poured his drink into the sink and cleaned the glass. She'd waited years for him to look like that at her. She felt the pangs of jealousy, yes, but also contentment. He deserved to be happy just as much as she did. She glanced at the clock behind her. Rude would be over in twenty minutes anyways, and lately, her fondness for bright Mako blue had dimmed in favor of the warm golden-green swirl of hazel.


	27. Chapter 27

Mariel pushed her chair back under its respective table. Her throat felt pleasantly rough. She hadn't sung in a while, but it had been her favorite activity back home. Her great uncle was a fantastic guitar-player, and every now and then, they'd been able to convince her father to get out his violin. Mariel and her mother would sing for hours with whoever else was available.

She smiled at her new acquaintances and waved away their praise modestly, before making her way over to Tifa.

"I need a few drinks for my new buddies," she announced lightly, before naming off the ordered beverages. She couldn't deny that she attempted to avoid looking at the occupant of the stool beside hers. Her understanding of their relationship had once again melted into confusion and she was hesitant to extend herself any further.

But she couldn't very well ignore him when he spoke to her, so when a muffled comment left his lips after Tifa had turned to prepare drinks she took a deep breath and faced him.

"Sorry?" She tried her best to keep from showing any unpleasant emotions on her face. It wouldn't have mattered. Cloud was strictly avoiding her gaze. He sucked in a breath before repeating.

"You sounded good," he said gruffly. A moment later she watched him cringe. And then she caught the end of Tifa's encouraging thumbs up. And certain things began to fall into place.

"Thanks," she responded before he could beat himself up too severely. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Mako," he responded automatically, gesturing to his ears. "Enhances everything."

He still hadn't looked up from the bar.

"I see."

She thought for a moment. Maybe there was something she could say that would put him at ease. But as soon as she'd thought that thought, recent interactions surfaced in her mind. It seemed that whenever she tried to talk him out of his stress, she just increased it tenfold. Mariel glanced up at Tifa, who was mouthing things at Cloud and gesturing to him with her hands, and smiled.

"Can you sing, Cloud?"

He fumbled for an answer for a moment before shrugging. He was even shyer than she was at times. Tifa had gone back to making drinks.

"Maybe you can sing with me sometime," Mariel suggested, and Cloud's cheeks flamed. He coughed a little.

"Sure," he muttered, staring determinedly at a bottle behind the counter. Mariel stifled a chuckle.

"Cloud, you've got to give me a little more than this," she said softly. Tifa coughed obnoxiously to cover laughter or surprise. Finally, Cloud lifted his head. His big eyes bore into hers for a moment before drifting away.

Not away – but _down_ she realized. He blinked slowly, and his own lips parted just slightly. He wasn't thinking of –

The bar dimmed out of focus in the moments after he leaned forward. She barely remembered leaning to meet him. It didn't matter anymore, because the soft press of his lips against hers and the pressure of his fingers around her arm constituted her entire world in that moment. Even when he pulled back a little, they remained close. Mariel found herself remembering each and every time he'd returned home from a delivery or trip. The sight of him in the doorway, the timid twitch of his lips upwards and the relieved, happy light in his eyes always made her heart beat faster. Would he come home for her now?

She swayed to meet him again, oblivious to Tifa standing nearby, braced against a wall of wine, to the giggles of the children who had just broken away from the guitar man.

"I'm sorry," Cloud murmured against her lips. His nose skimmed her cheek as he tilted his head. "Mari, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Finally, he could speak. She would have laughed had her mouth not been so engaged. She reached up to run the pads of her fingers over his cheeks lightly.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I forgive you."

Eventually, she had to break away from him, as the drinks Tifa had prepared needed to be brought back to those who had ordered them. She did her best not to giggle hysterically when her singing partner asked if that had been her first kiss.

"With him, yeah," she answered bashfully, and tried frantically to subdue their loud sentiments of congratulations. "Shhh! He's shy! Ya'll are going to scare him off!"

They ignored her. She found she didn't quite mind as much as she thought she would.


	28. Chapter 28

Cloud swiveled around to face Tifa. He'd turned to watch Mariel go a minute before. She took one look at his satisfied smirk and slid a glass across the counter to him.

"Not bad," she said with mock seriousness. "I would have preferred some tongue, but…"

Cloud's bravado dissolved. "Aw, Tifa!" he blushed.

"Ah, I see you would have too," she joked, and dodged his hands. "Easy, Strife. I'm just happy for you."

Cloud continued to watch her disapprovingly, sipping his drink loudly. She busied herself with some dishes. Cloud's sipping stopped a moment later.

"Tifa," he said quietly, and she prepared herself for whatever insecurities he'd come up with. "Does she look happy?"

Well, that was certainly deeper than Tifa had expected. She glanced up at the restaurant before her.

"Take a look," she invited, giving Cloud a meaningful look. "You tell me."

Cloud craned his neck around, peering over his shoulder. He stayed that way for a moment, observing Mari as she depositing drinks around the table, smiling and laughing with the guests. Then he turned back, slowly, a small smile growing on his face. Tifa didn't comment and neither did he. They remained silent until Mariel returned.

"I've got a request for hot chocolate, so I'll be in the kitchen," she announced, offering Cloud a brief smile.

"Don't take too long," Tifa said loudly, gesturing just _slightly_ towards Cloud. He caught it and narrowed his eyes. Mariel laughed, and giving Cloud's arm a squeeze, disappeared into the kitchen. He watched her go.

The front door swung open. From his usual post at the end of the bar, with his chair turned just a fraction to the side, Cloud had a clear view of whoever entered and exited the bar. He did not care for the figure that entered now.

"Rude!" Tifa exclaimed brightly, and Cloud tried to mask his grimace. Rude settled himself a few stools down from Cloud, and pulled Tifa over for a kiss. Cloud thought wistfully of the quiet, warm kitchen.

"You're looking upbeat this evening, Mr. Strife."

The goofy smile dropped from Cloud's lips. Tifa snorted.

"Of course he does." She whispered something to Rude, who grinned, and slid his ever-present sunglasses down over his nose. He folded them calmly before pocketing them.

"Well, Lady, shall we?" he said seriously. Tifa leaned down over the counter, smiling seductively.

"We shall," she crooned. Cloud groaned and pushed away from the bar as she took hold of the Turk's scruffy chin.

"Tifa, you've got customers," he hollered over a new round of songs from the booths. Tifa waved him away blindly, occupied as she was with Rude's mouth. Still grumbling, Cloud trudged into the kitchen. He hated having to watch Tifa with other men. He wasn't jealous, per say, it just made him feel awkward, like he was intruding on something extremely private.

Mari was at the stove, stirring a pot of milk absently. She had her back turned to him. The longer he observed, the more he realized that, if Mari was the one involved, public displays of affection weren't that bad.

He couldn't fathom how two hours ago he'd been holed away in his room, dreading the moment he'd have to face her. The ride from the Fielder ranch back to Midgar had come back to him the moment he'd felt Mari's lips against his. He'd felt so comfortable with her near him, with her hands trailing along his arms or sides. It felt natural.

"Mari."

She turned, and her face brightened. "Cloud! Can I get you something?"

He shook his head but wandered closer. She set her spoon down and reached up to pull his face down to hers.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked quietly. He nodded, eyes focused on the soft curve of her bottom lip. "I mean, you've been so nervous around me lately, and I just want to make sure we're not going too –"

He silenced her by closing his lips around her lower one. As he'd hoped, she exhaled and leaned into him, humming a little. This was proving to be a very effective way of calming her down, he concluded and allowed himself a small grin.

"What changed?" she asked when he finally relinquished her lower lip. It remained a little redder than her upper lip, and he felt satisfaction in his belly. He swept a thumb up over her cheek.

"You're happy," he said simply. "That's all I want."

She smiled, quite brilliantly. "Are you happy?"

"More than I should be," he answered, and shushed her when her lips pulled down in a frown. "Hush now," he ordered and followed the command up with another kiss.


	29. Chapter 29

Mornings were always Cloud's favorites. On days when he didn't have any early deliveries, he let himself sleep in so that when he woke, he woke to the sound of Denzel and Marlene running around downstairs, Tifa greeting guests coming down for breakfast, and occasionally, the sound of Mariel singing as she cooked.

But he was becoming increasingly fond of early mornings, when he set his alarm to ring before sunrise for early deliveries, mornings such as this one. His deliveries meant that he'd miss greeting the kids and Tifa at breakfast, but in return, he got to wake up before Mari. On early mornings such as these, with the birds chirping and the grey sky just beginning to light up, Cloud woke with his nose pressed against Mari's neck, just below her ear, and his arms firmly wrapped around her.

The first time they'd slept in the same bed, he'd up woken wrapped around her in a similar fashion, nearly entirely on top of her, and immediately panicked, thinking he'd crushed her in his sleep. Several nights later, when it became clear that his awkward sleeping habits weren't about to change, Mari wiggled her way under him to "save him the trouble" of doing it in his sleep. Now she'd perfected the technique of tilting her hips just so and cradling his head to her neck in such a way that both of them could comfortably remain asleep all night long.

They both liked the room to be colder rather than hotter. The window was always left open to allow a breeze in, and so it was never too warm sleeping with her, except for a few days in the middle of summer. Cloud let his eyes adjust to the low light coming in behind the gently fluttering curtains, automatically synching his breathing to the rise and fall of Mariel's chest against his.

Fingers scratched lightly at a spot on his back and a knee came up around his hip.

"Good morning," Mari murmured drowsily. "Delivery?"

"Yeah. I've got a couple minutes though." He spent a few of them coaxing her back towards sleep with soft, wet kisses.

"Mmm," she hummed contentedly, and wiggled down to use his chest as a pillow. "I don't think you can make your delivery."

"Oh?" he couldn't help but chuckle, and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Nope. Look outside. It's snowing."

"Mari-love, it's May."

"Hailing – whatever. You can't go. I'm sick."

"Sick?"

"Mmhm. _Dreadfully _ill," she exclaimed seriously. "I've got CDS – Cloud-deficiency syndrome."

He couldn't even formulate a reply to that one.

"And I won't get better without an extra big dose of Cloud today."

"Is that right?"

"Mmhm," she rubbed her nose against his skin. Cloud squirmed a little when a smooth leg hitched up around his middle. All he had to do was turn and her lovely, sleepy lips were right there.

He turned.

"You know I'm joking, right?" Mari breathed when they finally broke apart. Cloud raised an eyebrow, feeling very acutely the rest of her limbs that had found their way around his body in some way. "If you need to go, I won't bother you about it."

They watched each other for a moment.

"Just come back as soon as you can," Mari added quietly. Cloud felt the corner of his lips tugging upwards. He slid a palm up over her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into the caress. Her smile was breathtaking, even if he'd already memorized it a million times over.

"I need to go," he whispered, and she opened her eyes, smiling dimming. He paused for effect. "It's a shame I can't."

"Can't?"

"Fenrir's malfunctioned. Needs a new part."

"Oh no!" Mariel gasped, but her fake surprise melted away quickly. "Well, I suppose there's nothing for it."

"Hmm," Cloud agreed, already sinking back down under the covers and lacing his fingers with hers. "I'll call in a few hours. MDS is flaring up again."

"MDS?"

"Mariel-deficiency syndrome. It's fatal, I'm afraid."

"Surely not," she murmured, leaning in. "I'm certain we can find ourselves a cure."

Cloud wasn't so sure, but he kept the comment to himself. They had a few hours before Seventh Heaven awoke and he didn't plan on getting up until every last guest had done so. Perhaps this was his new favorite type of morning. It was certainly something he could get used to.


End file.
